Denial
by RogueStar
Summary: 'Reality was never something that the Warden found acceptable, even if it was happening right before him.' A short SJ! story.
1. Reality

Reality was never something that the Warden found acceptable, even if it was happening right before him. Whenever something was possible by normal means, the man could match that and then some. However, whenever its something that challenges his own crazy laws and logic, he goes right into a classic defense mechanism; denial. Some might say, _'Blame on the personality of a spoiled child coupled with the complex and dangerous mind of a sadist'_. Was that the case with Warden? Maybe, but there was one other factor involved. The fact that he was still nothing more then a mortal.

* * *

Warden hummed a tune as he walked down the hallway. It has been a long day, but a good one regardless. He was looking forward to turning in, maybe even sleeping in if he felt like it. He could whatever he wanted, he was the boss.

He reached his bedroom and went straight to his walk in closet. He changed into his night clothes and placed his purple suit neatly on it's hanger. He was still humming the same tune as he made his way to his bed.

As he pulled back his covers, he paused. He stopped humming, and the expression on his face had a look of slight discomfort. He didn't feel right all of the sudden. The upper part of his body had a burning like sensation. Warden stood straight up and placed his hand over his chest. After a few moments, the burning was gone.

Warden quickly dismissed it as a little heartburn. The food in the cafeteria wasn't actually that of five star quality, and tonight's meal wasn't any different. He crawled under his covers and settled in for the night.

* * *

2 am in the morning. Superjail was quiet as everyone, inmates and staff alike were fast asleep. Everyone was deep in their own dreamworld, enjoying their time there.

Everyone except for one man.

Warden was asleep, but not peacefully. His body tossed and turned, practically twisting his bedsheets into knots. His face was cringing, like he was struggling with something.

Deep within the multiple layers of the man's already distorted mind, something was attacking him, something dark and without a face. A figure with no actual form, and didn't make a sound. It had Warden by the front of his clothes. It's blackish grip was digging into his chest. Then he felt it, like someone stabbing him with a knife. The pain drove deeper into his chest, and within moments, he couldn't even breath. He tried to remove the entity from his chest, but his own hands went right though the blackness. It was like it had become a gas or a vapor, but the pain was still there, and it was becoming unbearable.

Warden jolted from his nightmare, gasping for air, and soaked in a cold sweat. He sat right up in his bed, dazed and disoriented. He was trembling, severely. He felt absolutely terrified, more so then he was used to. He would have the occasional bad dream or two, but this wasn't like his normal nightmares. In his nightmares, he could see who was attacking him or want to do him harm, and it was normally the inmates. Knowing that was enough for him to get over it. Besides, he was the warden of a jail full of men that wouldn't think twice about killing him. That's what he had people like Alice and Jailbot for. Not this time; no, this was someone, or something, that he never met, never knew, but was hell bend on putting an end to his life, and that only made it even scarier.

Warden didn't even realize it till he had calmed down, but the burning sensation was back.

* * *

The clock on the break room wall read 6 in the morning. It was dark; the lights were off, and other then the ticking sound of the clock, the sound and smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. A small figure opened the door to the room and switched the lights on. He went straight for the coffee machine with a mug already in hand. He removed the sleepers in his eyes as his mug filled with the the bitter stuff.

This was how Jared started his day; it was quite possibly the only quiet time he could have before he started his work, and whatever the day would bring. He would take this time to focus on what paper work he would have to finish, what reports he had to go over, and what other stresses he would have to 'survive' for that day. A cup of black coffee with three to four sugars, and a candy bar from the machine nearby were the only things that would accompany him, not that he minded.

The accountant was stirring the sugar into his coffee when the sound of someone walking into the room caught his attention. He turned around, expecting to see Alice. After all, she got up just as early as he did, but she rarely ever came into the break room. Instead, to Jared's surprise, it was his boss.

"Sir?" That was the first thing that came out of Jared's mouth. He's never seen Warden up this early. It was a bit of a shock. "...Uh, good morning."

Warden, already dressed in his iconic purple suit, but lacking the top hat, simply walked passed Jared and went right for the coffee himself. He took one of the mugs out of the cabinet and poured himself and cup. No sugar or cream, just black.

That struck Jared as odd. He's gotten coffee for Warden before, and never did he ask for it black. He then realized that he was staring. He snapped out of it and went over to the venting machine.

Expecting that his boss would just leave right after getting coffee, Jared didn't try to make any small talk. He was quiet as he got his daily chocolate bar, but when he turned back around, there was Warden sitting at the tiny round table in the middle of the room; another odd bit of behavior.

Feeling awkward now, the accountant meekly walked over to the table and took a sit, across from his boss. Jared finally noticed now tired Warden looked; he had bags under his eyes, and a bit of a five o'clock shadow to go with it.

'Was he up late last night?' Jared thought to himself.

He watched as Warden took a sip from his mug, and it was clear to Jared that he wasn't enjoying that black coffee. He sat the mug down, mumbling something under his breath. Jared figured it was cursing.

"..Sir? Are you...feeling alright?" Jared finally asked.

The reaction he got was delayed. Warden's eyes closed shut, like he was fighting off a headache or something, but instead of holding his forehead, his hand went over the front of his chest. After a moment, he replied back, saying, "The food from late night kept me up."

It took a second or two for Jared to get what Warden was saying. "Really? I thought it was pretty good. Maybe a little on the spicy side, but..." He stopped midway. This just felt weird having the boss in the break room this early in the morning, like he was another staff member. "...Um, I have some anti-acid that might help."

Warden didn't reply back. He was still half asleep, and still forcing down that bitter drink. Jared thought that maybe it was best to just stay quiet. He unwrapped his candy bar and took a bite.

In that situation, it was hard not for Jared to see that Warden was in some really discomfort. He just kept his hand over his chest, just in his suit. It was making the accountant feel nervous. He finished his candy bar faster then usual.

"Sir, are you sure you don't want something for that?"

Just as Jared asked that, Warden's complexion changed. He turned pale, and was starting to break into a sweat. On top of that, his hand was now clutching the front of his shirt. He tried to stand up, only to fall right over from sudden dizziness.

"Warden!" Jared pushed the chair out from under him and ran over to where his boss fell. One look was enough for him to know Warden was now in considerable pain. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The Warden didn't want to believe it, but the intense tightness in his chest refused to let him deny it any further. He thought for sure, hoping even, that the cause was the food from yesterday. Now he was having trouble even taking the slightest breathe. He recalled the dream he had last night, the one that keep him up, that robbed him of his sleep. It was happening, right then and now.

Jared dug into his pocket and pulled out his communicator. Without a second thought he punched in the emergency number to reach the Superjail doctor. Much like a panic button, a signal was send out to alert the doctor that something was wrong and where to head to within the huge jail. This mention was only used in the event that one of the staff members were in trouble.

Warden struggled on the floor, rolling over on his back, hand still clenching his chest. His vision was blurred; everything looked hazy and muddled. Jared then stepped into this line of vision. He couldn't see the worried look on his accountant's face. All he saw was blotches of colors and shapes. It as if space itself was starting to melt all around him.

"Sir, I just called the doctor. He'll be here in a few minutes." Jared insured.

"...N...noo" Warden mumbled.

"What?"

"..I don't need...the doctor..."

Jared didn't know how to reply back.

"I'm fine. I'm...fine..." Warden continued to repeat to himself. "This is...just a dream! A dream!"

Jared didn't know how to tell his boss that he was wrong. He bit his bottom lip before just saying it.

"Sir, you could be having a heart-"

"_SHUT UP!_ "

Jared stepped back a few feet from the Warden's sudden outburst. He thought about trying to reason with him, but a more important idea came to mind. He searched through his pockets once more, this time pulling out a small bottle of aspirin. He always carried some around for his stress induced headaches and other bodily pains. He popped it open and took out one of the tiny pills.

Kneeling down he presented the pill to his boss. "Here. Chew this."

Warden's back hand met with Jared's, slapping the medicine out of the accountant's fingers. Jared took out another pill, and this time tried to place it in Warden's mouth. Despite the immense pain, the man abruptly pushed Jared away. He attempted to sit up, but his body wasn't responding. He flopped back on the floor with a weak thud. The pain was now moving from his chest right up to his jaw and left arm.

After recovering from his own fall, Jared was back over to his boss' side, pill still in hand. "Sir, please! You have to take this! It'll help you." Once again he tried to get it into Warden's mouth.

His chest felt like it was on fire. His heartbeats were without number and the pain was spreading throughout his upper body like some horrible plague. He fought it for a bit more, until finally he let Jared pop the aspirin pass his teeth. Warden bit down, crushing the pill and letting the bad taste flood his mouth. It hurt to chew. The pain from his chest has invaded his jaw, attacking all the nerves and muscles.

That's when reality hit. His own personal fears couldn't be contained any longer. As he finished chewing the bitter pill, he shut his eyes, trying his hardest to keep the tears from showing. It was a futile attempt. Stubborn as he was, he couldn't hold back the fright filled tears any longer.

There wasn't much more Jared could do now, except wait for the doctor to arrive, which should be any moment now. That thought was what was occupying his mind; his eyes was on the door, not on his boss.

"It'll be alright, sir. The doctor will be here in-"

Jared turned his head just as the tears started to leak and fall from Warden's shut eyes. A subtle whimper escaped from Warden's throat. He turned his head away from his accountant. Fear and shame blanketed his face.

"...Sir?"

Warden didn't answer. The only sound he made was the slight and sudden gasps of air, partly from the chest pain and partly from trying to hold back the tears.

This behavior was new to Jared. Granted, the level of the situation would call for some anxiety, but this was unexpected, even for his boss. It was like he was watching a entirely different person; maybe even a child. It felt awkward, but at the same time, the more he thought about it, this may have been something that Warden would have never thought he would be going through.

Fear of death can have that kind of effect on anyone.

He thought about it; not long, but hard before reaching out and placing his hand on his boss' shoulder. He waited for a brief moment, expecting some reaction, but Warden just stayed still, his face still turned away.

"It's going to be okay, sir."

Jared tried to sound as calm as he could with those words, but sure on how Warden would react. There was plenty of reason to expect a negative reaction; a slap, a yell, a curse, or all of the above. However, that wasn't the reply Jared got. What he got was nothing. Warden kept his face away from him, but he didn't seem peeved about having Jared's hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly the sound of running feet burst into the room. In came the Doctor along with two other people in white coats; trustworthy yet disposable acquaintances of the 'good Doctor'. One of the people carried a portable stretcher while the other had a large bag with a bright red cross on the front. Jared jumped up and stepped aside. The Doctor looked surprised to see who was in need of medical help.

Warden heard the people come in. He felt his accountant's hand leave his shoulder. As he heard the medical team come upon him, the room began to spin. His heart pounded so hard he thought the other people around him could hear it. It rang in his head, and the pain pulsated in every inch of his upper body. Sick; he felt absolutely sick to his stomach.

A numb feeling suddenly washed over Warden's body. He couldn't feel the hands of the medics or hear whatever the Doctor was yelling at them to do. The numbness gradually grew cold.

The last thing he saw before everything went black was the oxygen mask going over his face.


	2. Never Die

The mind is a mysterious thing. It can only show us so much while we are aware of our outside surroundings. Only when we are shut off to the outside world, when we are 'unplugged' can we drive deeper. Sleep opens up one door, but there is yet another level we can access. However, many don't dare go that far. Fear binds the final door. The other side reveals a side of us we don't want to admit; a _weakness _we are too ashamed to display. We never want to really admit who are really are. In the end, we all lie to ourselves.

* * *

His body was light; weightless. His eyes were still closed, but that didn't seem to matter. It was nothing but darkness around him anyways.

Somehow, Warden knew where he was. He's been 'here' before. He hates this place. It's bleak, empty, and crawling with bad...'things'.

_Memories._

_Doubts._

_Fears._

Oh, that's right. He was here not too long ago.

Out of the void he heard a familiar sound. It started low and distance, but then it slowly grew louder, closer.

_Ba-Thump Ba-Thump Ba-Thump Ba-Thump_

Warden opened his eyes half-way, but he couldn't see where the sound was coming from. It grew even closer until it seemed like it was right on top of him. His eyes looked around but he saw nothing but endless inkiness.

_Ba-THUMP! Ba-THUMP! Ba-THUMP!_

Warden jerked. He clenched his chest, suddenly realizing the sound was coming from his own body. The sound was heavier now; more powerful. It made Warden feel uncomfortable. Scared, even. But, there was no pain. In fact, he felt numb.

_Numb..._

He could have sworn there was a good reason for him feeling like that. The only thing he could _feel _ was the beating in his chest.

Suddenly, out of the nothingness a dark figure lunged at Warden, grasping him by the front of his suit. He screamed and tried to fend off the attacker. Then it hit him; this was the same _thing _that came after him last time, during his sleep.

'_I'm asleep, then?'_

Warden cried out for help, hoping maybe that could help him wake up, but nothing changed. It was still dark and he was still under attack. Before he realized it, the entity had it's 'hands' in his chest, just like last time. Warden was struck with the same sharp pain from before. It started from the core of his chest and burst throughout every fiber of his being.

He thought for sure that was when he would wake up. But not this time.

The attacker became like vapor, just like before. It's body spread and surrounded Warden, like a blackish mist, blending into with the already inky void. Despite the pain, Warden tried to move away, but he was suddenly paralyzed. The black mist covered his body, forming little vein-like threads that buried themselves into his clothes and skin.

He was trapped, just like a fly in a spider's web. That wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't experiencing the worst pain he's ever felt in his life. His chest throbbed like there was a burning fireball lounged in it. He could still hear that sound, only now it seemed faster now.

_Ba-THUMP-Ba-THUMP-Ba-THUMP-Ba-THUMP-Ba-THUMP-Ba-THUMP_

That was all Warden could hear. It echoed throughout the nothingness, like it was mocking him. The pain was increasing considerably, and he couldn't take it much longer. His arms and legs felt like they wanted to rip themselves from his body. His head was pulsating with his chest, like someone was trying to burst out if his skull. It was all becoming intolerable; utterly unendurable.

He tried to scream, but nothing wanted to come out. Even his throat was paralyzed.

_'Why is this happening? Why is this happening? Not me! This can't be happening to me!'_

_**"I'll just never die!"**_

A statement from the past rang in the Warden's ears. Those words; he's forgotten about those words...

* * *

It was many years ago; more so then most people realize. It was shortly after a particular event, one that has been buried deep within the memories of the Warden. He always hoped it would stay buried, but every so often, it comes flooding back to the forefront. While the death of a parent was bad enough for any child, the way Warden's father passed has always bothered him. It was a harsh first lesson on how death worked.

Warden, age four, playing with his lego blocks in his room. It was about a week after his father's sudden death. The young boy has completely devoted himself for his mini model of his future jail.

In the eyes of his father's former accountant, it was the boy's way of mourning. Jerald peered into the boy's room. The lights were dimmed down; the only illumination was coming from a single lit oil lamp, which sat on a nightstand next to the child's bed. Warden was sitting on the floor, into his legos. A long cast shadow hung behind him. His back faced his bedroom door.

Jerald took note of little Warden's current work. His little jail was growing. There were more buildings and sections added, and now it looked like he was making it sit on what looked like a mountain. Maybe a volcano?

"...Boy?" Jerald spoke up.

Warden didn't seem to hear him. Then again, he wasn't accustomed to listening to his father's workers. He was used to just drowning them out.

"...Hey." Jerald walked into the room and stood right next to Warden. Again, the child didn't seem to even acknowledge his existence.

"Warden."

That got the boy's attention. His father was the only one allowed to call him by his name. He stopped and slowly turned his head towards Jerald. It would seem it knew he was there the whole time.

The look on the boy's face wasn't what Jerald was expecting. He was ready to see the face of a broken child, or at least a face full of dried tears and puffy eyes. What he saw was the face of a irritated young man.

"I'm busy. Go away." Warden spoke in a manner that reminded Jerald of the boy's late father. This bothered the elderly black man. Warden turned back to his work.

"Listen, my boy. You've got to stop this." Jerald said. "I don't think its healthy for a boy your young age to be cooped up like this." He picked up one of the spare legos that was on the floor. He examined it with his fingers. "Your father kept you locked away in the house because he was afraid you would mingle with the _common crowd_. But I say that's a hill of beans."

Warden turned around and smacked the toy out of the man's hands. "I said go away!"

Jerald wasn't surprised at the boy's fit. He was his former boss's son, after all. He calmly turned and started heading out the room. He stopped midway.

"Are you still sad about what happened, boy?"

Warden's little body tensed up at those words. "...No."

"Really." Jerald turned around. "Then what are you feeling?"

It grew really quiet in the bedroom. The dancing flame in the oil lamp made Warden's cast shadow tremble on the floor. It took a moment for Jerald to realize that it wasn't just the boy's shadow that was shaking.

"...he died."

Jerald could barely hear what Warden worded out, but he got the message. He thought there wasn't much else that could shake up the young boy.

"Death happens." The accountant said. "It gets us all at some point or another. I'm sorry, my boy. That's just how it is."

"No."

Warden turned around to face Jerald. "It's not going to happen to me!"

Jerald's eyebrows raised. "Don't talk nonsense, boy. It happens to everyone. Even you, someday-"

"NO! I _refuse _ to have it happen to me!" Warden shouted. "I'll figure something out! I'm not going to die like him! I'll just _never die_!"

* * *

_Never die._

Those words were the spark that lit a fire in the boy, that made me start his downward spiral into the mental disillusions and hidden fears he has suffered for his whole life. They would lay dormant in the back of his mind, collecting dust, until something forces them back to the forefront, where they were never welcome. Even though he has found a way to prolong one of the most common fears known to man, the truth was never something he wanted to accept.

His body loomed in the void. The feeling in his limbs were gone, but his chest was still screaming. His mind was desperately trying to disconnect itself from his body, to stop the pain. Stop it all.

_'Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.'_

Make it stop? Then what?

_Never die! Never die? Never...die..._

_Deny._

Warden's body was on the threshold of complete shut down, but his mind still refused to allow the matter rest. The matter that haunted him from all those years ago; it was in the forefront, and there was nothing to send it back this time.

_Deny. Lie to yourself. Denial all the way. Denial to the end._

_The end..._

If life can be represented by light, then the cast shadow it creates on us is the other end; the end of that life. Those shadows follow us our whole lifetime, reminding us that it will happen at some point, someday, in some way.

_"...I'm..."_

Some would call it a epiphany. Others would say it was coming to terms. Whatever one would call it, the feeling Warden had was sobering; a rare occurrence that he could barely recall having throughout all his years. Maybe this was truly the first time for him.

_"...I am dying..."_

His mind finally dimmed out.


End file.
